The One Who Saw His Face
by aurorashaw
Summary: James Moriarty doesn't usually make house calls, not unless the miserably boring world throws him something of interest. Aurora Shaw was something of interest. OC. First Story. Quite Nervous. R&R,
1. Chapter 1

Unstable, that's how her therapist had described her. "Unstable, not otherwise specified." And it would never be specified, not as long as the client kept her promises. For that poor therapist to ever understand would require details her client would never, ever reveal. Those secrets were all she had left.

"Rory, Rory are you still with me?" Dr. Hawley cooed gently.

A woman, no a girl trying to be a woman, blinked her deep blue eyes and turned away from the eyes boring deep into her. "Yes, I'm here. I haven't gone anywhere."

"It is so strange to me that our meetings always end up like this." The therapist shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I hear so many wonderful things about you. You're a brilliant student, lovely friend, and yet when you talk to me you freeze up. It's been six months and I've heard nothing from you."

The girl wrung her hands nervously, itching to get out of the room. "You know I'm required to be here. I don't have to say anything."

"No, no you don't." Dr. Hawley sighed, rubbing her creased brow. "But you really should."

It was one of those miserably hot August nights where no matter how high the AC was cranked up, sweat still lingered up the middle of the back, behind the knees. Aurora Shaw was miserable, there was no other word for it. She had resigned herself to not sleeping; it was nearly impossible with the humidity beating down like a wet drum. Huffing, she lifted herself from the sweaty embrace of her down mattress, gliding across the marble floors of her bedroom towards the balcony. (Dramatics came easily for her, always had). For some reason, and she would always ask why, she shut the door behind her, hiding herself behind the awful curtains she'd had installed so she could linger in bed on the weekends.

Despite the oppressive heat, it was a beautiful night, full of stars and a big beautiful full moon. It was hot, yes, but nothing was really wrong with the world. It was at this moment, staring up into the stars, that Aurora heard that all familiar sound, the creak of her bedroom door. It was slow, deliberate. Frightened, and not sure why, Aurora jumped, her elbow colliding with the banister of the balcony.

"Bed's empty, but someone's been 'ere recently, it's been slept in."

The girl's heart stopped. The voice was completely unfamiliar and foreign; there was a stranger in her home. Biting her tongue, she crouched down in the corner of the balcony, her mind completely frozen. Was it a break in? She had no idea what to do in a break in. She didn't even have her cell phone.

"Well, well, that's unfortunate. I'm _dying_ to meet her." A second voice, higher and much more sinister came clearly through the glass. Terror gripped at what was left of Aurora Shaw's heart; this man, whoever he was, was right at the door. "Aurora dear? I've heard so much about you." And with that the door was pushed open, lightly even. In the moonlight, Aurora's eyes took time to adjust to the man in the doorway. It was much different than what she had expected, a small man, unassuming, but with the most bone-chilling grin she had ever seen.

"He wasn't lying, your father." The voice was playful now, not connected to the strange man in front of her. "You are quite…_delectable._ But I don't go much for blondes, too typical."

Aurora gripped her knees to her chest. Her usually brilliant mind was stripped of all reason, no fight or flight, just _frozen._ This man, this _thing_, in the doorway of her balcony was not dressed like a criminal, not dressed like a man who broke into houses. In the moment of her potential demise, Aurora had to laugh at herself, she was thinking about his suit, his well-tailored suit. _At least my blood will be splattered on something of quality._

"Wait..." The man's expression changed. "Do you think I'm going to kill you?" He really was asking, earnestly.

"Y-yes." Aurora managed. He was, wasn't he?

The man laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm sorry to have given you such a fright, well the wrong fright." He grinned again, stepping towards her, crouching down to her level. "I need you for something else first." His hands, long fingers, caressed her long blonde locks. "Your father, quite a stubborn man, _died_ on me before I had the change to get what I needed. I knew it was a mistake, shot him too early, but oh well!" The man laughed comically, as if someone had told a nice, clean joke. "I have you, and really you're much prettier."

"I don't understand. Why would anyone want to kill my father?" Tears were welling in her eyes, the suddenness of the situation still dawning on her.

The man rolled his eyes. "Oh, you people are so boring. Get up." Aurora was frozen to the spot, so he had to help her by yanking her up by her fittingly think locks. Aurora yelped, and her rolled his eyes again. "I said I needed you. Listen. To. Me. Your _stupid_ father didn't, thought he'd play the hero, but hero's, they are so _predictable._"

Tears were rolling down her cheeks now, but she wasn't crying. Her body knew what was happening, somehow understood, but her mind was yet unaware. Frozen. "Just tell me what you want." The words flew out of her mouth before she could even comprehend the enormity of what she was saying.

"Call me Jim," he smirked, his Cheshire cat grin spreading across his face. "And what I want is quite complicated, involving many big, important people." He was speaking to her like she was a child now, as if this was all above her. "Right now, you can start by changing out of that nightgown, as much as I _hate_ to see it go, into something that poor buffoon has in there for you. Don't try to escape, you won't want to. We're going to a party."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I'm uploading this right away because it's ready and because it sheds some light on some very important details. The rest of the updates will most likely be quite a bit farther apart, but not too much. The chapters aren't going to be long, I don't think. I'm not good at long chapters. Enjoy! R&R.

He had watched her change, and for some reason that made Aurora feel more violated than any touch. He had sent his lackey away too, made it personal, his eyes boring into her. It had been silent, five minutes of tearful stumbling with a dress of blue silk, sickening soft to the touch. Once she was covered, blissfully covered again, he approached her, looking her up and down as if inspecting something.

"I suppose that'll do. Seb, do come in and escort our lady friend to the car."

The first man, bigger and a much more typical criminal, sauntered in, some sort of handgun spinning around his left hand. "Ello, princess. Mind if we pop out for a bit?"

* * *

DAVID SHAW IS DEAD, MURDERED. INVESTIGATION UNDERWAY. DAUGHTER MISSING. –GL

Mycroft Holmes had two immediate questions upon receiving the text message: How did Greg Lestrade have his mobile number and why on earth would someone murder David Shaw? Shaw was a simple man, obnoxiously wealthy, but nothing out of the ordinary. He wore the same boring suit to work everyday, made the same small talk with the department secretary. Then again, his simple-ness had seemed quite like a façade. Everyone he worked with seemed ordinary on the surface, but nothing in any of their jobs was. Curious, Mr. Holmes pulled up David Shaw's file, something he rarely bothered to do with anyone, unless they dealt with him directly.

_ David Albert Shaw. 57 years old. Widower, one child. Filed for bankruptcy 6 months ago. Wife Elizabeth Shaw committed suicide by jumping off the roof of the Shaw's apartment building in New York. _

Mycroft sighed, carefully placing the folder back into the cabinet. Quite a tragic tale. He read the text again "DAUGHTER MISSING…" He had never met David Shaw's daughter, the American girl whose mother had flung herself off of that Park Avenue tower, quite gruesome. It had been big news in the States; Elizabeth Shaw had been a sort-of socialite celebrity. But none of that mattered to Mycroft, all that really mattered was that he would most likely be drawn into the investigation, forced to go to a funeral, and then have to fill Shaw's position. All rather tedious jobs. There was a knock at the door, and Mycroft could about guess who it was.

"Sorry about the text, not very personal I know but we're in a hurry. The squad is on its way to Gerrards Cross as we speak." Greg Lestrade was practically panting, his coat soaked. It must be raining. "I know you're a busy man but I have a few questions."

"Detective Inspector, Mr. Shaw was a co-worker, nothing more. I really do no little about him."

Lestrade nodded understandingly. "Listen, I know that but he doesn't have any other connections. His wife is dead, both parents, and his daughter is missing. This is crucial, Mr. Holmes."

Mycroft sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Did he have any enemies? Anything to do with his job?"

"Mr. Shaw was a government employee, he rarely left the office."

"Alright, what about his wife, the one who committed suicide? Did you ever meet her?"

"Once, but it was fleeting and she didn't make much of an impression. If I remember correctly, it was two months before her suicide, eight months ago. She was already long gone by then, I suppose."

Lestrade's frustration was visible. He had absolutely nothing to go on, and Special Crimes was breathing down his neck for anything to lead them to the girl, and he was trying to solve the murder of a "government employee." The detective sighed and turned towards the door. "Have his file sent over. Thank you, Mr. Holmes."

* * *

The car was decadent, a Mercedes with a plush leather interior. Seb, the man with the gun, had pushed her into the backseat, barrel to her back. The seats were sticky against Aurora's bare legs, a slit in the dress leaving her skin exposed to the leather. Still, she was shivering. The horror of what was happening still hadn't registered, a testament to the overarching numbness of her life for the past six months. She was going to die by the hands of his man, like her father. A small part of her was disturbingly calm about it; she didn't want to be an orphan.

Any sense of calm she felt sitting in the backseat of the Mercedes was shattered when Jim slid in next to her. His eyes were fixed on his smartphone, and yet she still felt that they were upon her bare skin. She shuddered visibly. Jim smiled again, resting his icy hand on her right thigh. An electric shock shot through her, she felt sick that this man's touch had elicited such a reaction. "Don't be nervous, _Aurora_." He let her name be controlled by his Irish lilt. "Like I said, I'm not going to kill you. I _need_ you." His eyes bore hungrily into her.

"Why could you possibly need me?" Aurora whispered painfully. "Why would you possibly need to _murder_ my father? Why do you _need_ to do any of this?" Bravely, she turned to face her captor. "You're going to kill me eventually, what does it matter. You might as well let me understand."

Jim clicked his tongue. "No, no I don't need to tell you. You're predictable, yes, boring, yes, but not stupid." His hand slid up, making Aurora whimper as her body reacted in ways her mind couldn't understand. "You can figure it out, I think, if you want to. Not that it matters, because you're right, I will kill you eventually."

Aurora's blood ran cold. The finality of it hit her solidly, but she was not afraid, no she was relived. It would end, this nightmare would eventually end and she could join her parents. She hadn't thought she was that depressed, but a murder and kidnapping will rewire priorities.

The ride was eerily quiet. Seb, driving, was cut off from them by a partition. Jim's hand was caressing the soft silk of Aurora's dress, his eyes closed. It should have sickened Aurora, but instead it was the only thing making her feel alive anymore. It was like a bad dream, a nightmare, and the icy touch of this man was the only thing keeping her in reality. The windows were darkened from the inside and Aurora had no concept of where they were going or how long they had been driving. When the car finally stopped, Jim removed his hand from Aurora's thigh and grasped her chin firmly, turning her head towards him. Aurora couldn't stand to look into his eyes; their gleaming evil _burned_ her.

"They know you're coming." His fingers grazed her cheek. "Go in, make some small talk if you really want to, but you'll recognize the place, I'm sure, and you should know where to go. If you don't," Jim moved his hand to the warm flesh of Aurora's throat. "I'll have to slay my princess."

Aurora took a gulp as the door opened and Seb pulled her out of the car. It was still quite dark, but they were now in the city. They were in London, Belgravia in fact. As her eyes adjusted, she was shocked to see her former home in front of her. They had moved to the country after her mother's…death, and hadn't been back since. She wondered who had bought the place; clearly there was some sort of party going on inside. Looking back at Seb, she realized she had no choice but to go in. The man with the gun did not hold whatever qualms Jim had about killing her at this point in time. Slowly, Aurora climbed up the stairs to the front door. Her hand shook as she reached for the buzzer. The door opened immediately, and she was hit by the smell of cigars and champagne. Dozens of impeccably dressed men and women lounged lazily in the foyer, sipping from their champagne flutes. No one noticed when she entered, no one even looked up. Standing in the middle of the foyer of what used to be her home, Aurora was hit with the memories of her mother waltzing across the floors as she and her father left for the ballet, or orchestra, or one of many things. But that was before the scandal, before everything had began, but she couldn't think of that now. She had to _do_ something; Jim needed something from her, but what? Staring up at the ceiling, she knew she had to act fast._ Yes, do figure out how to help the criminal mastermind so you can die later rather than sooner. _Aurora mentally punched herself. She couldn't imagine what that man could possibly need from this home, from her, from her father. Unless…unless it didn't have to do _with_ her father.

_"Your father, quite a stubborn man, _died_ on me before I had the change to get what I needed."_

The realization came upon her gradually. She had been thinking about the situation in the completely wrong vein. It wasn't about her father, no, he had simply been an option that got in the way. This whole ordeal stretched back to six months ago, to the cold pavement of a New York City sidewalk, and to the shattered heart of a woman Aurora had really never known after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello everyone! I just want to thank you all for reading! This part is hopefully a bit longer, although I do have to warn you of a potentially awkward sex scene that I'm sure you've all seen coming. I apologize for any and all mistakes with the story in terms of grammar etc. Also a warning. Although Aurora is technically legal, I understand if you find the following chapter difficult, but it is Moriarty. Hopefully Aurora comes off the way I wanted her the way I wanted her to come off in this chapter...Anywho, enjoy and R&R!

_ "Why are you here, Rory?"_

_ "You know why I'm here, court mandated therapy."_

_ "No, no that's not what I meant. Why do you think you ended up here, in this situation in life?"_

_ Rory Shaw raised her head. "Because of James Moriarty."_

_ Dr. Hawley sighed and leaned forward. "Rory…Aurora Shaw, Jim Moriarty was not real. Do you hear me? That man, that whole situation was tragic, so very tragic, and I can understand why it would be hard to believe, but that man…was. not. real."_

* * *

Special Crimes arrived at the mansion in Gerrard's Cross to an expectedly grizzly scene. The foyer had been cleared of David Shaw's body, and blood and other samples had already been taken, but no one had cleaned up the excess of dried blood on the marble floor, and oh, was there an excess. David Shaw had bleed out almost completely. Upstairs they found one bedroom that had been tampered with, the bedroom of David Shaw's 18-year-old daughter, Aurora Shaw. The balcony door was open, the bed slept in, and a couture nightgown, lace stitched, on the floor. In terms of leads, the unit had almost nothing to go on. David Shaw had been a drinker and a gambler, but he had no enemies. His wife had been another matter, but seeing that she was dead she wasn't much help. She hadn't let a note, only texted her husband and daughter that she was back in New York. The only blood on the scene was that of David Shaw, and there was no other physical evidence. They were at an impasse, that was until one of the lower detectives found a photograph slid into the grooves between the molding and the wall. The photograph was of a dumpster.

Aurora Shaw found her way to the only place she could guess to go, her parents old bedroom. She couldn't imagine what she would find there, they had moved out and left nothing behind. Everything in it would now belong to someone else.

No one stopped her as she walked to her parents' old bedroom, and a strange sense of calm passed over her knowing that if she tried to run away, these people would stop her. They must work for him, Jim; they must have been here for a reason. When she reached the door, it was slightly open with a soft light pouring out from it. Aurora reached out her shaking hand and pressed the door open. As she stepped in she could faintly see the shape of a woman sitting at the boudoir, smoking a cigarette. As her eyes adjusted she could she that she was incredibly beautiful, elegant, her hair pinned up nearly and a green lace robe hanging on her slight frame.

"Have you figured it out yet?" The woman spoke, a well-articulated voice. Turning her head to the doorway, the woman stood up, and _prowled_ over to Aurora. She towered over the girl, her six-inch heels giving her an unfair advantage. "You should feel lucky. Jim Moriarty doesn't find many women interesting, not even me. I don't even know what he looks like."

"I need to find something, please let me look." Aurora spoke bitterly. "This…this was my…"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Your parents' room? Oh I know, I bought this place from your father, after your mother's death. She was so pretty, your mother. You look a lot like her, you know."

"Don't mock her." Aurora brushed past the woman. "I know you work for him, I've figured that much out, so I know you won't let me escape, so at least let me do what I'm supposed to do." She brushed a tear off her check. "It's all I _can_ do."

The woman sighed dramatically, flicking the ashes of her cigarette to the carpet. "I can see why he likes you, you are so very _obedient."_ The woman approached Aurora, her eyes boring into her hungrily, a hunger very different to that of this man called Moriarty.

"Leave me alone." Aurora stepped back. "I have work to do."

With that, the women swept out the room dramatically, taking one last glance as she shut the door. Aurora was surprised it had been that easy. Finally alone, she crumpled to the floor in tears, finally breaking. Her cheek touched the carpet as she fell, touching the place where she had spent her childhood, the fibers rubbing against her cheeks, mingling with her tears. It was all so familiar, and yet the room was filled with strange things, so unfamiliar. She knew if she laid here long enough, Moriarty (that's what that woman had called him) would come and kill her, and it would be over. Yet, her primal urge to live, to cling to life at all costs, kept her heart beating and her mind racing, thinking of what he could possibly need. Wiping her tears from her face, Aurora picked herself off of the carpet and took a deep, clear breath. _No point in panicking might as well die with dignity. _

Pacing across her parents old bedroom, now tainted with the décor of that woman, Aurora began to formulate an idea. It had to do with her mother, it had to, and her father must have just been in the way. But this man, Moriarty, was not an average criminal, so why did he need something from them? Six months ago Elizabeth Shaw had killed herself, publically and horrifically, and her only note to her family was a text stating that she was back in New York. She had left them, hopped on a red eye flight and jumped away from their lives, but it hadn't been all that surprising really, Mrs. Shaw had been clinically depressed for years, but no one would have guessed she would have ended her life so publically.

The text message! Aurora wracked her brain, trying to remember the last "words" her mother had said to her.

GONE TO NEW YORK FOR THE WEEKEND. I LOVE YOU RORY.

-MOM

Rory, in her last message she had called her "Rory." It was a nickname her friends used, but never her mother. That had been the only thing strange about the message, the only part that really stood out.

The safe! Her mind lit up and she ran into the walk-in closet, pushing aside that woman's _interesting_ wardrobe to her mother's secret safe, built into the wall. Except, the safe had a four number code, not letters. Aurora had always thought it strange that it was a numerical safe. Her heart was beating out of her chest as the safe clicked open. Inside, of all things, was a single DVD inside of a clear plastic case.

* * *

She had been taken to a building in the middle of London, hidden in plain sight. Moriarty was gone, and Aurora felt strangely sad that he wasn't there to finally kill her. She waited three days, in a nice enough bedroom guarded by Seb, with only a television to comfort her. Finally, on the third day of her captivity, there was a knock on the door.

"Oh honey, I have just met the most _amazing_ man!"

"Jim? Why the hell am I still alive?" Aurora yelled at the psychopath in her doorway. "I gave you what you wanted. Let me go or kill me!"

"Oh, so demanding all of a sudden! Listen dear, there is this whole thing going on with this man, this _Sherlock, _ and it has changed my perspective on you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Aurora sat down on the edge of her bed, Moriarty joining her, grinning from cheek to cheek.

"Everything has changed! I have more _passion_ than I have ever had, a real purpose to all this, this meaningless life."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Aurora stood up again. "I…I really don't understand anymore. I gave you what you wanted. I-." She looked at him again. He was dressed strangely, his hair was different.

Moriarty jumped up from the bed and pressed his fingers to Aurora's lips. "Because, in the end, it won't matter, all of this. I need someone to remember me, what I accomplished."

"Remember you?" Aurora stared into the eyes of her captor, this man who kept her and yet she wasn't sure if she wanted to leave. What else was out there? She hadn't been rescued, she even doubted anyone was looking for her, and if she did survive there wasn't much out there that interested her anymore. Her family was dead. Did that make her a psychopath to?

"Yes," Moriarty caressed Aurora's hair. "Do you know why I decided to come after you?"

Aurora didn't answer.

"See, growing up I loved fairytales. The princesses and dragons, all of those wonderful tales. Once I knew what I needed for my next, _project_, I began looking, and I found you. A beautiful young maiden with long golden locks named _Aurora_. I couldn't resist! Life is quite dull, so I have to make what fun out of it as I can." His hand moved to her cheek, then her lips, parting them ever so slowly.

"And here you are, still asleep. Shall I wake you up, my Briar Rose?" Moriarty moved slowly, with none of the aggressive force Aurora had seen before, leaning in to kiss Aurora with such passion she'd have thought the psychopath had been replaced with Prince Charming. Her former kisses, fleeting high school moments of hormonal teenage boys, seemed pointless, lifeless, and dull. She tried to guess how much older he was than her, perhaps as much as fifteen years, and yet all this fact did was make the passion in the pit of Aurora's stomach grew. _Maybe I am a psychopath,_ she thought as Moriarty breathed in her ear heavily.

"Before, when I said I don't go much for blondes, I'm going to make an exception." He nibbled on the tip of Aurora's left ear. "Is that alright with the princess?"

"I..." Aurora was speechless. Moriarty pulled her in tightly, kissing her madly up and down her neck.

"Because the truth is," He broke away, laughing manically. "You _love_ this." His hands traced her curves ever so gently. "And honey, no one is coming."

"They're still looking for me, it'll be all over the news" Aurora shook her head; unsure of whether this was a threat or a fear.

"Oh, don't worry, they'll find you. Well, the charred remains of a prostitute who could be you."

"You're going to keep me alive?" Aurora practically shouted.

"Are you that ready to die?" Moriarty put on a look of fake concern. "No, no, I need a witness to all of this. I have a dragon to slay, and I want you to watch."

Aurora began to shake. He was going to fake her death and she was going to spend the rest of her life with this man. Whatever internal struggle she was having vanished; it didn't matter. This was her life now. The finality seemed severe, but when she looked into the eyes of Jim Moriarty, she did not see someone who would lie about what he was capable of.

Coming back into reality, Aurora felt Moriarty's hand fiddle with the top button of her Dolce and Gabanna blouse. He had dressed her in the finest. "You are a maiden, aren't you? Because it would be a shame to get all this way to find out my Sleeping Beauty isn't as innocent as I thought." Moriarty looked genuinely concerned.

"Who's saying I'm innocent? I'm alone in a bedroom with a psychopath almost twice my age." Aurora snapped.

"Innocence and mental stability is not the same thing, dear. You might be crazy, but that doesn't mean you're a slut." He grinned again. "Now tell me the truth."

Aurora closed her eyes. "I've never..." She couldn't finish her sentence. She had only ever made out with a guy at a party. It hadn't been that great, to be completely honest. Now, she was about to loose her virginity to a criminal mastermind. Her whole life seemed to be put in perspective, all of the depression and anxiety and fear, perhaps this was it, why she had never really fit in; the only thing she found attractive was insanity.

"See, that's why I like you, you can't lie to me." Moriarty kissed her again, harder this time. "And you never will. You will never lie to me." His hands began to work furiously, unbuttoning Aurora's expensive blouse, tearing if off her. Aurora found herself reacting in ways that seemed far beyond her age and experience. Powerfully, Moriarty lifted Aurora off the ground and flung her onto the bed. He climbed on top of her, grasping at her skirt, yanking it off. Aurora's heart was racing at the _wrongness_ of the situation, her beneath this man in only her underwear while police investigated her father's murder and searched for any sign of her. And yet, she wasn't saying no, wasn't tell him to stop.

He pulled her up to her knees, kissing her roughly as his hands grasped at what was left of her clothing. Finally, he pulled off his own shirt, kicked off his shoes, and furiously kicked out of his jeans.

"Oh, honey look at you. So perfect and unspoiled, quite unlike that _sick_ mind of yours, let's make it match, shall we?" He slowly ran his hands up Aurora's porcelain thighs. "Now, I can't be sure, but I've heard this can hurt. No time for foreplay, I'm afraid." And with that James Moriarty thrust himself into Aurora Shaw. Aurora cried out, digging her fingernails into Moriarty's back.

"You weren't lying, were you?" Moriarty panted, moving slowly, feeling slightly sorry for the girl beneath him, as sorry as he could feel. He grabbed Aurora's legs, placing them around his back as he began to press into her harder and harder. Aurora moaned as the sensation shot through her. She had heard many people's first times wasn't that great, but her "sick mind" was exploding with the pleasure. This was apparently what she had needed, to be screwed by a criminal mastermind.

They had reached a feverish pace, Aurora's body moving in time with Moriarty's until they both came, almost simultaneously, Aurora groaning Moriarty's name. The criminal laughed as he rolled off of Aurora, falling on his back onto the bed.

"That was easier than I thought it was going to be."

Aurora panted. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh sweetheart, do keep up. You were practically wet the moment I met you."

Aurora sighed, still breathing deeply. "You kidnapped me."

"Yes."

"Killed my father."

"Sorry." He sang.

"And now…"

"And now I just had consensual sex with a legal adult." Moriarty stood up and began to dress. "Stay here, love. I've got work to do." He was gone faster than he had arrived, leaving Aurora lying naked in her bed of captivity. She wasn't so sure about the consensual part, considering she had been kidnapped, but then again she had exploded in passion, crying out the name of an insane man who had killed her father. Aurora Shaw didn't feel weak or used, just…strangely calm. Everything about the situation was wrong, so very wrong, and yet she wasn't going to do a thing to stop it. She had experienced more in the last three days then in her entire life beforehand. For the first time in her life, Aurora felt alive.


	4. Chapter 4

The apartment was small but posh, the decorations decidedly British. It was neat and tidy, with very few personal possessions, well no personal possessions, for its occupant had none. Aurora Shaw had nothing in her possession that had once belonged to her, not even an earring. Her clothes were expensive but a different style than she would have chosen for herself, a bit more whimsical and feminine than her usual preparatory attire. After a few weeks in captivity, she was decidedly healthy. Her food was top notch and an entire range of health and beauty supplies were at her disposal, all designer of course. Something about the routine of getting made up every morning made Aurora feel like she had some sort of control over the confusion that was her life.

The sitting room was decorated with white upholstered furniture and carved antique tables. Frequently, Aurora would fall asleep on the couch only to find a pillow under her head and a fluffy blanket over her. It was all very normal, but that was during the day.

He came at night, usually quite late as he often had business to deal with earlier in the evening. No matter the hour, Jim Moriarty would rouse his "Sleeping Beauty" from her bed and sit her down for dinner, like he had just come home from work at the office. The specific hour was sporadic, but he always came, always. This was after she had been found dead and her killer apprehended. Detective Inspector Lestrade had confidently explained to the press that it was Elizabeth Shaw's ex-lover, bent on revenge for his beloved's death. It didn't make much sense, but the papers ran with the delightful scandal, as they will do. Being a dead woman, Aurora found herself lacking in motivation to escape. What would lie ahead of her? She would be put through interview after interview, seeing every officer from every division, exhausting every issue from every possible angle. Dealing with all of those people, people who were supposed to keep others safe, people that had failed her, made Aurora sick.

It was four o'clock in the morning when Jim woke Aurora up. "Sweetheart, you won't believe what happened tonight."

"I never do." Aurora mumbled, pulling the blanket up to her chin. She was exhausted.

Jim leaned in to caress the girl's decadently soft skin. "It really was a proper standoff, quite stressful, it would have made you _very_ nervous."

"I don't think anything could make me nervous ever again." Aurora rolled over, facing the ceiling. "I'm not hungry, by the way, if you cared."

"Really?" Moriarty seemed properly confused.

"This is not an hour when people normally eat."

"Yes, well I'm not normal people. Normal people are so boring, with their times for eating and sleeping." The criminal sighed. "But you're not boring. I mean, you're not _me_, but you're not boring."

"What do you want?" Aurora sighed, exasperated.

"I just want to spend time with you, relax after a long day of…well, in this case quite an interesting standoff. Slide over."

Aurora furrowed her brows. The sex was constant, literally a daily occurrence that seemed to have no logical timing, but he never, ever stayed longer than it took him to put his trousers back on. Jim took off his suit jacket, tie, shirt, watch and shoes before slipping into bed in his boxer briefs and undershirt. Aurora sat petrified at the intimacy of the moment. She'd rather be tied up in cuffs to a radiator.

"This isn't very devious, you know, I think you're losing your touch." Aurora sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Don't you have some crime to commit somewhere?"

"No…no everything is fine right now, I can do it all from here." Moriarty closed his eyes. "He has someone, that changes everything. It's fascinating really, how he's kept this man around. I thought, well I thought he was like me." Jim opened his eyes. "But he can't be."

"So, there's this man you want to get to and he as a friend? This surprises you?"

"Aurora dear, stop talking about things you don't understand."

"The only reasons I don't understand is because you don't tell me."

Jim sat up, a look of bewilderment on his face. "Well of course I don't tell you."

Aurora pressed her hands into her face and rolled onto her side, pulling the blankets up. Being kidnapped was one thing, but being insulted was too familiar.

"It's not because I think you're stupid." Jim's voice was quiet. "I just… I don't want to distress you."

Aurora could have gone mad at the irony of it. He didn't want to distress her? The insanity of the man she was now sharing a bed with confounded her. She was distressed beyond all reasonable means, losing her sanity by becoming comfortable with the man who had destroyed her life, a man that was now shuffling up beside her, pressing his body against the back of hers, wrapping his arms around her snuggly. He was surprisingly warm for someone so cold-blooded.

"Because even though I'm the villain, even though I don't have friends, I must protect you, show you the world as it really is. You've been given an opportunity to have the veil lifted, an opportunity you won. You should be proud." Moriarty purred into Aurora's ear. "Because when this is all over, I think you'll finally understand."

There was a long pause, with only the sound of the ticking clock for company in the night. Finally, Aurora shifted, turning to face her captor has he gently cradled her. "What will I understand?"

Moriarty's eyes gleamed with despair. "The _final_ problem."

* * *

He had her up against the bathroom door, twice, the next morning, and was getting started on a third go when the very same door was violently pushed open by Moran, throwing the half-dressed duo to the marble floor.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jim roared, lashing against Seb with a decorative vase. "This woman isn't properly dressed and you just waltz in here with no concern? This better be important because I was kind of in the middle of something."

Seb panted, not even deflecting Moriarty's blows "It's Adler, she's in."

"Well of course she is, she needs me."

"No, she's _in_. She's about to contact Buckingham. The plan's a go."

Moriarty smiled. "Good, very good… Now, get out of my sight before I _drown_ you in the bloody toilet." Moran left quickly, coming back to shut the door before he finally left.

Aurora lay on the marble floor, her eyes facing downward. She felt humiliated, and yet the feeling was a nice reminder that she could still, in fact, feel things. Jim was getting dressed as usual, not telling her where he was going or anything else for that matter.

"Sorry, I've got to go." His voice was distant.

"If he ever does that again, I'll try to escape."

Moriarty snapped his head back to Aurora.

"I swear if anyone else sees me like this, I will make your life as miserable as I possibly can. I haven't tried yet, and I won't if you let me have some decency."

"Decency? Honey, we just fucked against the bathroom door. Twice."

"Don't wake me up in the middle of the night, ever. Moran doesn't even get to think about seeing me. Also, I need something else to do all day. Books, preferably."

"Books?"

"I get bored."

"Alright…you do know I would have you killed if you tried to leave? Violently?"

"Obviously, which is why you'll comply."

"Alright, I guess you'll get some books. Anything in particular?" Jim seemed puzzled, but compliant.

"Surprise me. And there's one more thing." Aurora stood up, covering herself with a towel.

"What now?" Jim rolled his eyes.

"Either get me birth control or use a goddamn condom."

AN: Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait, I've been on my Christmas break and honestly just very lazy :( I hope you like this chapter, especially Aurora's assertiveness!:) I apologize if the timelines don't make sense, I have a hard time figuring how much time passes, especially between The Great Game and Belgravia...Anywho, please R&R and THANK YOU all for your interest and lovely comments!


	5. Chapter 5

__AN: Hello everyone! I apologize for the long break but I've been adjusting to being back at college. This chapter isn't as long as I'd like, but hopefully you enjoy the flash forwards and how things are progressing. I promise that the canon plots will come into play eventually, but this is more of a focus on Jim and Aurora's relationship. Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews and follows and everything! I love you all! R&R :)

* * *

_Rory crossed the busy street to the shiny black sedan. Opening the door and sliding in, she was met by the familiar face of Anthea and her smartphone. The car would take them to some isolated location where a tall man with an umbrella would attempt to talk reason into her._

_ "Can't he ever come to me? I don't like leaving the apartment."_

_ "No." Anthea replied curtly, her eyes still glued to her cell phone._

_ "Well, he should know that nothing he or Lestrade or anyone else says would change my mind."_

_ "He'll make you keep quiet."_

_ Rory scoffed and crossed her arms. After all she had been through, people were still using threatening language. Didn't they know that meant nothing now? Once James Moriarty has threatened you, nothing else can scare you._

_ The car pulled up to an abandoned warehouse and Anthea led Rory in to a large, cavernous room with trash strewn everywhere, chains hanging from the ceiling. It was a cloudy day and there was little light inside the large space. The man stood, umbrella by his side, by two chairs in the middle of the room._

_ "Ah yes, Miss Shaw, please take a seat."_

_ "No." Rory crossed her arms and walked towards the man. "You never do."_

_ "Point duly taken. Now, Miss Shaw, you know why you are here, so let's get down to business."_

_ Rory threw her arms up in exasperation. "No, no…just leave me alone. If I want to expose this whole thing, I'm going to do it! My entire life was turned upside down, you've lost someone and I've lost someone and you just need to let this happen."_

_ "Is he really dead?" The man asked quizzically. "Sherlock isn't."_

_ Rory bit her bottom lip. "I…I honestly don't know. But this is absolute bullshit! People need to know what happened, that this was all real. Don't you want the papers to stop spewing nonsense about your brother? He is your brother, isn't he?"_

_ "Yes, he is. My name is Mycroft Holmes, and you are Aurora Shaw. You go by Rory because you have grown to associate 'Aurora' with your former captor Jim Moriarty. You developed a fondness for him as well as a sexual relationship that was a lot more consensual than the police want to believe. You have suffered with mental illness your entire life but your mother's insanity left yours in the shadows. You are still undiagnosed and will probably always be, as your life is now separated between the time before and after Moriarty. You are unwell, Miss Shaw, but no crazier than any of us."_

_ "No, I simply recognize that the world is more complex. What happened to me…" Suddenly Mycroft's attention turned to the back door. In the doorway stood a man, a man whose silhouette even a kidnapping victim could identify._

_ "Well, well, well, if it isn't James Moriarty's Sleeping Beauty."_

* * *

_Thump._ Aurora awoke quickly. What the hell was that noise? The apartment was usually silent as a graveyard. The young captive glanced at the alarm clock, 5:04 in the morning. Jim hadn't come to see her. It was the first time he had done so without warning her. If he had a particularly complicated job to handle, he would notify her first. He was fairly considerate, considering the basis of their relationship.

Quietly, Aurora pulled away the Egyptian cotton sheets and set her feet onto the cold hardwood floor. _Thump-thump._ There it was again. She held her arms up in front of her as she stood and began to move towards the door. The sun hadn't risen yet and she had no light source. Moving slowly, the girl was able to find her way to the bedroom door. It was always locked, so she placed her ear to the wooden door. There were two voices; one was clearly Moran's, the other a woman's. Aurora tried the handle; locked. Frustrated, she decided she had to find out what was going on. Placing herself behind the door, Aurora screamed her most blood-curdling scream. It took about five seconds for Moran to bumble his way to the door and fling it open.

"What the hell, princess?!" He stepped in just enough for Aurora to see that he was bruised all the way up his naked chest. Taking the chance, she sprinted around the door and locked the man inside her room.

"I'm not escaping!" She yelled at the door. "I promise." Running down the hall, her white night gown fluttering slightly, Aurora felt a surge of adrenaline. She could escape. It would end in her death, but she would be free. She stopped running as she noticed the light on in the extra bedroom. This is where the noise was coming from. Pushing the door open slowly, she was met by the figure of a woman she hoped she'd never have to see again.

"Irene Adler, isn't it?"

The dominatrix dressed in all black lingerie and holding a whip in her hand, smiled coyly. "Sorry, Moran and I have an agreement. I know what he likes."

"Well, you woke me up." Aurora crossed her arms protectively. She didn't like how the woman looked at her.

"Don't get much sleep do you?"

"No, actually."

The two women stared, until Irene broke the silence with a crack of her whip. "Was it that?"

"Yes. I would prefer if you did your business elsewhere."

"Funny…" The woman walked even closer to the girl, now on equal footing without her heels. "Sometimes you look so much like your mother, and others I barely recognize you."

Aurora felt her grip of control slipping. "How the hell would you know?"

Irene sighed and tightened her grip on the whip. "You really didn't know her, did you? That's sad, the mother daughter relationship is such an important one."

She didn't remember the moment she lost control, but she did remember the taste of blood as Irene Adler's blood gushed freely out of her nose. It wasn't a very feminine thing, punching a woman straight in the face, but it got the job done.

"How long did you know her?" Aurora screamed, pinning Irene's slight frame under her. "Tell me!"

The dominatrix was genuinely afraid. Being punched in the face wasn't sexy, nor was the rage on the girl's face. "She hired me a year ago." She managed to respond over the deluge of blood flowing down her face. "We worked together for six months."

Aurora was silent, slowly picking herself off the floor. Her lace nightgown was now covered in Irene's blood. She suddenly realized she could hear Moran pounding the bedroom door. How long had he been doing that? Had she blacked it out? "Did…did you know?"

"That she was suicidal? Yes. There was nothing I could do, I swear I tried."

A gunshot went off; Moran must have found a gun to shoot the lock off. He came running into the spare bedroom, his pistol pointed directly at Aurora.

"What the fuck happened here?" Seb boomed.

"You and your fucking dominatrix woke me up!" Aurora yelled back.

Irene stood up slowly. The blood had stopped and it was drying all down her front. "She isn't trying to escape, Sebastian, I promise. We just had a little tiff about Elizabeth."

Aurora twitched at the sound of her mother's name. "The DVD…"

"What?" Seb responded angrily.

"The DVD was for you. She made the DVD for you."

Irene crossed her arms. "Aurora, I swear…"

"No! She didn't leave a note or anything for her husband or child, but her mistress gets a fucking personal DVD message! Am I right?"

A phone buzzed in the corner of the room. Seated on a chair was Irene's Chanel handbag. "Can I answer that?" The dominatrix asked quietly.

"Yes." Aurora sat down on the edge of the bed.

"It's for you." Irene's bloodied hand handed Aurora the phone. "It's Jim."

The girl put the phone up to her ear slowly. "I'm going to do it, Jim. I'm going to attempt to escape because I can't handle this level of bullshit. You should have told me right away." Her voice was quiet, but strong.

Jim sighed. "You have no idea how angry I am at them right now, for disturbing you like that. I promise they will pay, but I need the woman."

"What could you possibly need with this whore?"

Irene didn't even flinch. Jim continued. "Sweetheart, in all things there is a give and take. What I am accomplishing right now is better than any fairytale, and you are a very important part."

"No, no don't feed me that shit anymore. The DVD was Irene's signing bonus and I'm just the key to getting her onboard." Aurora stood up. "You don't need me." Tears streamed down her face.

The consulting criminal breathed deeply into his phone, showing a level of distress rarely seen. "My dear Aurora, if you attempt to escape and Seb kills you…" There was a break in Moriarty's voice. "Just…just fucking stay there, will you?"

After a long pause, Aurora finally mustered up the strength. "I thought there was nothing special about dying."

With a click, Jim was gone. Aurora dropped the phone onto the bed and wiped her tears. "Irene, get out."

The woman left, taking Moran with her. He didn't want her to die. James Moriarty, consulting criminal and psychopath extraordinaire didn't want her to die.

* * *

_"Aurora Shaw aged 19. British father, American mother. Your father worked for my brother at the government and your mother had a certain taste for a certain dominatrix. This was a jackpot for Moriarty who takes the chance to personally kill your father and kidnap the girl who was in the middle of it all, the girl with the fairytale name-__**you**__. He wanted you to watch, to see the whole thing happen and remember when it was over. So…how was the show? I'm dying to hear."_


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Hey everyone! Thanks for your continued support, I am so amazed by how awesome you all are! For reference, the non-flashforward parts of the story take place alongside Baskerville and a little bit after. Hopefully you don't freak out at the ending, and I will be trying to clear up the timeline because I know its a bit confusing. Well, as usual R&R! I love you all :)

* * *

_ "Did you love him, Miss Shaw?"_

_ "Yes, and I still do."_

_ "Did he love you?"_

_ "In his own way, as much as he could." _

_ "I can only imagine the convoluted view a psychopath like Moriarty might have on love." _

_ "And what would you know of love, Mr. Holmes?"_

* * *

She awoke is a tangled mess of sheets, the sun streaming through the open balcony doors. They were in Italy, on the Amalfi coast and it was the most beautiful place Aurora had ever been. Jim had taken her here two days ago, on a whim, not saying why. The girl guessed it had something to do with him needing to get away for a while; there was always business to attend to.

Aurora roused herself to get out of the decadently comfortable bed to join the criminal mastermind on the balcony. She loved how he looked on the rare mornings she saw him; hair messy, unshaven, wearing a ratty old tee shirt. Moriarty was smoking a cigarette, leaned up against the wrought-iron fence guarding the edge of the balcony. The sea was the deepest blue Aurora had ever seen.

"It matches your eyes." Jim spoke quietly.

"What does?" Aurora stood with her back against the balcony, crossing her arms over the deep cut of her nightgown.

"The sea. It's a blue so deep you'd think it black at night, but when you see it in the daylight you'd be shocked you ever thought it was anything other than blue."

"You're quite the poet this morning."

Jim turned, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his foot. "Are you mocking me?"

"No! Of course not."

Moriarty nodded understandingly. "Of course you're not. I keep forgetting that about you." The man sauntered back into the hotel room. "That you're one of the good ones."

Aurora reentered the room and shut the balcony doors. "Jim, what's going on?"

"Oh, don't 'Jim' me!" Moriarty snapped, pulling his suit out of the small wardrobe. The man began to undress. "You have _no_ concept of the gravity of what I am doing."

"No, I don't, but I thought that's what you wanted." Aurora sat down on the edge of the bed.

Jim pulled on his trousers and began to button his shirt. "I just…just please stop trying to help me, you're not supposed to help me." Stuffing his shirt into his pants, Jim walked over to the dresser and began to slick back his hair with some high end gel that Aurora thought smelled like pine trees.

"Okay, but I'm not trying to help you, but as the kidnapping victim in this situation, there's not much else for me to do." It came out more sarcastic than Aurora intended. Moriarty slammed the bottle down onto the dresser. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Aurora approached the man slowly. "I'm sorry, but you have to understand how frustrated I am. What the hell am I supposed to be doing? You treat me like I'm so important yet the only reason I'm here is because you broke into my home and took me by force. I am so _fucking_ lost, but I've never felt more alive. I am conflicted, and I know you might not understand what that means but-"

"Don't understand?" Jim's voice was soft. "Oh, I understand conflicted. When I was little, I wanted to be a priest." Jim turned to face Aurora. "The only thing I wanted was to be close to God and absolve people of their sins, but I became obsessed with confession. In fact, I would specifically commit certain sins just so I could be absolved of them. But after awhile the absolution…" Jim clenched his fists. "Didn't _feel_ real. So I decided to just keep sinning and not worry about repentance. I feel my current way of life gets God's attention in a way the cloth never could. Still, every day makes me wonder if I could have ever done it. It would have been hilarious, knowing the 'darkness' of my mind." Moriarty giggled.

Aurora sighed as Jim touched his thumb to her lip. "I think I made the best choice possible." The man leaned in and kissed Aurora passionately, trailing his hands down the girl's delicate curves. She wanted him so badly, wanted to spend the rest of her life in this moment, because when he was kissing her, he was just a man. He wasn't a criminal or a mad man, just Jim. Aurora was always surprised at how passionate he was, sometimes a little bit rough but he had grown more and more gentle, beginning to savor every moment instead of devouring her rapidly. Some might call it love, but Aurora knew that wasn't quite true.

Abruptly, Jim broke away and smoothed down his hair. "We have to leave soon. I'll be back this afternoon. Be ready to go." Moriarty grabbed his phone off of the dresser and took one last look at his captive before looking down and exiting the hotel room. Aurora felt her stomach drop as the door shut. She had never seen that look on his face before; he looked afraid.

* * *

"Mr. Holmes?" A young assistant approached his boss nervously.

"Yes?" Mycroft Holmes put down his morning paper.

"We have a lead on Moriarty." The young man handed Mycroft a manila envelope.

Mycroft nodded curtly and stood up from his desk, closing the door behind the assistant. After the incident with the bomb hostages, he had been spending an obscene amount of time looking for the man known as James Moriarty. After Sherlock had cracked the case, he had seemingly fled the country. It was a strange move; Moriarty didn't seem like the type to flee, rather to bask in the glory of his accomplishment.

The "government employee" opened the envelope, pouring over every detail carefully. Within thirty seconds he had all the information he needed. Picking up his desk phone, he dialed a number he loved getting to call. "Yes, this is Mycroft Holmes. Call in the RAF."

* * *

Around three o'clock in the afternoon, Moran strode into the room. Aurora immediately knew that he was nervous. "We have to go." He spoke curtly.

"Where's Jim?" Aurora asked anxiously.

"He's a bit indisposed at the moment. Please, princess, don't fuss, we have to get going." Moran motioned towards the door. "I will make you if I have to. I have orders."

Aurora nodded curtly and followed the sharpshooter out of the room. She noticed that Seb was wearing an earpiece, something he usually didn't have on. They were walking at a rapid pace, Moran behind leading the girl down the stairs and out into the wet heat of the beautiful Italian day. The streets were milling with tourists and travelers.

"Keep close to me." Moran pulled Aurora close.

"What's going on?" Aurora whispered.

"Just keep walking."

The two moved rapidly through the crowd, pushing and shoving to the chagrin of everyone in the crowd. Aurora was firmly attached to Seb, holding onto his arm as she was pulled through the charming café's and winding roads. Finally, they turned into a large alley. A car was waiting.

"Get it." Moran opened the back seat.

"Where am I going?" Aurora pleaded. "Tell me, please."

"I can't do that, Aurora." It was the first time he had used her proper name.

"Sebastian," Aurora cried. "Tell me. Why didn't Jim come back?"

"Just…" Seb pulled his pistol out of his jacket, grimacing. "Get in the car."

Aurora sighed, shaking her head, as she threw herself into the backseat of the car. Something was very terribly wrong; she could feel it in her gut. As the car pulled away, she began to seethe with anger. This man had made her love him; love a murderous mad man who destroyed her family. _How sick must I be?_ Aurora buried her head in her hands as the car wound down the coast, but the tears wouldn't come. She couldn't bring herself to cry. _I deserve this. _

They drove until it became dark and Aurora was straining to stay awake. The gentle roll of the automobile had always made her fall asleep. When she was little, her dad would take her in a car or taxi when she couldn't sleep at night. When they would take family road trips, she would always nod off and magically arrive at their destination. Some of her best memories were sleeping in the car, the peace before the storm. When she was sleeping, she couldn't hear her mother cry or her parents fight. She hadn't realized how damaged her childhood had been. _I suppose it takes a kidnapping and murder to do that to oneself._

When she awoke, they were at an airstrip outside of Milan. She was roused by a meaningless man in a suit and led onto a small jet. No one would tell her where she was going. Two hours later she was landing back in London. Exhausted and emotionally drained, Aurora was placed in another car and driven to Belgravia.

The home was empty upon arrival; everything Irene Adler owned was gone. In the middle of the foyer, on the ground, were a cell phone and a hand-written note.

_Dearest Aurora,_

_I am afraid this is where we must say goodbye. Enjoy your freedom._

_Jim xx_

Shock hit her like a tidal wave, filling her body with dread as the weight of his words filled her. Once again, Aurora found herself on the floor of her former home, crushed under the weight of a simple note. Before she realized what she was doing, Aurora was smashing the phone into the stone floors. Once it was in a million pieces, she stood up, grasping Moriarty's note.

Chest heaving, she ran out onto the front steps. There was no car waiting. Her entire body was shaking. Was this what freedom was supposed to feel like? Because all Aurora could feel was her entire world crashing down upon her once again.

* * *

_"Miss Shaw, I know your reasons for wanting to expose this."_

_ "Yes, because it's the truth!" _

_ "No, no I'm afraid that's not quite it. What do you think Sherlock?" Mycroft turned to his brother._

_ The younger Holmes scanned the girl up and down. "I suppose you used protection in your physical relationship with James Moriarty?"_

_ Aurora blushed. "Of course, I demanded it."_

_ "Birth control pills?"_

_ "Obviously"_

_ "But we both know that they were placebos, don't we?"_

_ Aurora clenched her jaw. "Stop it, just stop."_

_ "No, I'd rather like to see where this goes. You must be about three months along now, just starting to show, but you're dressing well for it. He came back to you, right before…"_

_ "I don't know if he's alive, okay?" Aurora cried. "I know that's what you want, that's why you don't want me to say anything. But I have to! If he is alive…"_

_ "Miss Shaw, you are a very intelligent young woman, why are you doing this to yourself?" Mycroft sighed. "Have an abortion, continue your therapy, and try your best to live a normal life until Sherlock decides to return. Until that moment, you must continue to be dead as well."_

_ Aurora was outraged. "I'm keeping it, Mr. Holmes!" Her voice turned soft. "It's all I have left of him."_


End file.
